Perspective
by alexatheknight
Summary: "A penny for your thoughts?" they ask, a hint of their cocky smile dancing across their lips. A bitter laugh comes from you as you reply. "Oh no. I'll sell them for a dollar."


**Perspective**

_Why?_

It's the question to every answer, to every problem...

It keeps them up at night, wondering why everything was happening.

They just want to know: _why?_

Only one knows the answer.

_You._

You. The Queen of Emotions, The Healer, The Answer To Every Problem.

_You._

Only your closest friend knew this. She knew, called you a genius. They asked. _Why are you so smart? How are you such a genius?_

You'd shrug and say: _It's who I am._

Which was true. You always know.

You hear people talk, gossip, spread lies, and people will ask: _why?_

_ Why is he breaking up with me?_

_ Why won't she talk to me?_

_ Why is he mad?_

_ Why is she avoiding me?_

And you always know.

Always.

How?

Perspective.

You don't realize this is the answer till the emotions start pouring in like an enormous waterfall.

Hollywood.

The saying, Don't judge a person until you walk a mile in their shoes? Became the story of your life.

You'd pass by people all the time. Aspiring actors losing their jobs. Directors firing them. The people who didn't even get the chance. The beggars on the street, pleading for help...

Everytime you saw them, their emotions became yours. You felt their pain, sorrow, misery, embarrassment, desperation...

It was all too much.

You couldn't take it.

All the pieces came together then.

That's how you always knew.

When she asked why he was acting this way, you had imagined yourself as him. You felt his emotions, and the answer came.

It was right.

At first, you thought it was magic. How could you do that?

As time passed, you realized it was just who you are.

The emotions were killing you. With every scene of suffrage, your heart broke another piece more.

You couldn't take this. You wanted it to stop.

And most of all, you wanted to help.

Feeling their emotions, becoming the person... It made you realize that they needed help. And you intended to give it.

You thought about it, but you realized it was almost impossible.

Every night, you'd cry yourself to sleep. Your emotions would become unbalanced.

And you knew why, of course.

You were too happy. Everyday, you were doing what you wanted. It filled you with nothing but joy.

The other emotions-the painful ones-they caught up with you when you got home.

That's when the pain came. You'd sob and wail as hot, painful tears overflowed.

You just couldn't take it.

But you were strong. You found a way out of this.

You were the Hollywood Healer. You helped people, healing their heavy hearts. They all loved you.

It helped with your emotions.

And eventually, becoming people, feeling their emotions-perspective-became easy.

You could take it. You were strong.

Hollywood was the kingdom of emotions, and you were the goddess.

No one knew this about you. You'd plaster a smile, light up your eyes, and be as cheery as you could be.

But something was saddening you inside.

No one cared about you.

They did care about your safety, and that you were fine, but...they never asked about what you were feeling.

At times, you didn't mind. Sharing feelings...it wasn't your best quality. What was in your mind, most of the time stayed there.

No one asked, What's on your mind? How are you?

Hollywood was a lake. So shallow, only few can venture too deep.

You understand this, and are surprisingly amused at these shallow stars. But inside, you're breaking.

Slowly. Quietly. Unknowingly.

Everyday you wonder: why? Why does no one care?

And for once in your life, you haven't a clue.

You understand the reasons behind the emotions. But you don't understand anything about yourself.

And, sadly, how people see you as.

It's the loophole in your ability, and you despise it.

So you assume no one cares.

Maybe they do. Maybe they don't. Does it matter?

Yes.

You know it's no use though. No one will ever really care. No one will ever really know. No one will ever really understand.

It is impossible.

So you keep your feelings inside. You lie, and act, and succeed.

That's how it should be, how you want it to be.

But what you desire...is for someone to care.

Who should anyway? You're the Healer. You're supposed to care for and help others. You're supposed to be unbreakable, emotionless, the light for everyone.

The legend of Pandora's Box describes you. All the good flew out of you, away into the winds of emotions.

Yet there's that tiny ounce of hope. The hope that...somebody is there.

The hope isn't listened to. All you believe-atleast that is what you tell yourself-that you are alone in this world. That no one knows, cares, or understands.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

You jump up, startled. Eyes widening as you wake up from your epiphany, you turn slowly at the voice. Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you stare at the presence in front of you and laugh at the person with the cocky posture and smile.

"Oh no," you reply, coyly. "I'll sell them for a dollar."


End file.
